


The Monster Book of Love

by lennyangel



Category: Monster Brothel Erotic CYOA Game, The Monster Brothel (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Other, Pining, Romantic misunderstandings, bookshop au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-02 01:19:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17254934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lennyangel/pseuds/lennyangel
Summary: You become addicted to some old books that are no longer in print. Fortunately for you, there is a second hand book store in town.Unfortunately for you, it's run by an incredibly handsome Minotaur





	1. Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think this will become too sexual, I think it's just going to be a cute romance story, but that might be subject to change. There will probably be indulgent descriptions of books, curly hair and possibly muscles. Be prepared.

The smell of dry paper and old leather swirls in the air. Sunlight filters through high windows, illuminating dust particles floating in the air. As the dark wooden door closes, the little bell jingles. You step shyly in to the store. The shelves were made of polished wood, and stuffed full of books. Piles of books were stacked neatly beside them, and on the desk to your left. It’s currently empty. The whole store seems empty.  

   
You’d been looking for some old books that were no longer in print. You’d found two in your grandmother’s collection, and fallen in love with them. But then you couldn’t find them anywhere. Asking around, you’d been pointed to this store. Word was it was owned by a minotaur. You’d never met one before, although you knew some lived in your town. It wasn’t as though you’d never met any monster before. You’d lived next door to a family of Nagas, and played with their son growing up until both of you had gone away to university. Your families got together at big holidays for BBQs. There had been various others at school, as well as rumours of people who were half or quarter monster. There was one particularly gorgeous girl at school even you could believe was part succubus.    
   
That being said, monsters were still very rare. There were more red heads in town than monsters. So, while your main motivation was the books, you were also curious to see a minotaur. You loved cows, with their big brown eyes and gentle manner. It was part of the reason you were vegetarian. But, as your friend Abhzhur taught you early on, just because someone seems to be half an animal, it doesn’t mean they are exactly the same.    
   
You head up the two steps, polished with use, to the stacks. You start scanning them, trying to understand the system in play here. It didn’t seem to be alphabetical, by title or author. Cooking books sat next to historical fiction. Does genre mean nothing in this mad house?    
   
You circle the stacks, getting more and more aggravated by the apparent lack of system in this place. Now you’re further back in the store, where there is less natural sunlight. Old lightbulbs give off weak light that make you squint to see the book titles. A quiet rustling in the stacks makes you whip around. You see nothing.    
“Hello?”   
There is a heavy thumping on the other side of the bookcase. You swear you can hear snuffling sound. You can’t find anything here, and you’re starting to freak out, so you decide to cut your losses and just leave. However, as you try to make your way out of the darkened stacks, you have difficulty finding your way back. You were too busy frowning at book spines to remember the way you came. Breathing hitching, your steps speed up as you round corner after corner, completely lost. Tears come to your eyes. It‘s frustrating; what adult cries because they got lost in a store?    
   
Suddenly you bang into something solid and yet strangely soft. The shock sends you flying backwards, but something long and hard snatches around your waist and holds you up. You stare, tears dripping, at the figure holding you against its warm body. It obscures the light, so all you can make out is the massive head, a vague feeling of curly hair, and large horns that reach up above the head. You attempt to explain your situation, but all you manage is a strangled gurgle.    
   
The figure sets you up right. A hand almost as large as your face wipes away your tears with a gentle caress.    
“Oh my goodness, I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.” The voice is deep, almost rumbly. Your lip quivers. “I find myself getting lost amongst the books.”    
“Me too! I was lost!” your voice comes out too loud and you laugh nervously. The minotaur looks at you for a while. Then he chuckles softly.    
“Let me help you out.” he says, turning to lead you out.  His hand stays on your back. Normally that kind of touch from a stranger would make you uncomfortable, but he doesn’t place it too low or too high. And you’re still a little shaken from your panic in the stacks. The feel of his large, warm hand against your back is very comforting. He chats jovially to you as you walk. He doesn’t seem bothered by the fact you aren’t replying in anything other than a high-pitched croak.   
“My name is Octavius. I was just reorganising the back books, as I just got a delivery of excellent condition bird watching guides. Do you bird watch? I do, from time to time. Not anything particularly intense, I don’t record it or anything. I mainly see pigeons and sparrows anyway. I like watching them, even if they are common. Ah, here we are, watch your step now, that’s it, and there you are. Do come again.”    
And with a jingle and slam, you’re standing outside the store blinking in the sudden sunlight.    
   
Breathing heavily, you try to calm the pounding of your heart. This is bad. This is terrible. This is the worst thing ever.    
   
You’ve definitely fallen in love with Octavius.


	2. Chapter 2

It isn’t until you get home that you realise you never actually got what you went to the store for. You’d been too distracted by the way the loose white shirt had managed to cling to the chest of the book store owner. Octavius. You’d seen pictures of Minotaurs before, of course. Normally sensationalist images from National Geographic, that showed them as a “down to earth” or “in tune with nature” people. A very “noble savage” narrative. Kids at school would giggle at the magazine’s photos because Minotaurs in Crete tended to wear very little clothing. They did, however, where jewelry and get pierced in some interesting places. You find yourself wondering if Octavius has a golden piercing on his……The image blasts into your mind making you roll around on your bed. No. You will not fall into that exoticism. Octavius is an individual. A soft spoken, eloquent, book loving, bird watching individual.   
  
You decide to go back in a week.

You want to go tomorrow. You want to go back now. But you decide that would be weird. A week seems like a reasonable time. You’ll have time to calm down a little, and strategise.   
  
All through the week your mind drifts back to the bookstore. You tell yourself not to get your hopes up. He owns a book store. He’s probably way older than you. He might even be married, or uninterested in you. That’s okay. You might not even get on. What if he doesn’t like your favourite movies, or books, or thinks your major is stupid? Yeah, he could be a jerk.   
  
You aren’t very convincing.   
  
Finally, the week comes to an end and it’s time. You have no plans, but you do have a paper to write. So, no matter how this goes, you will be forced to stop thinking about it for a few hours at least. The walk to the book store is pleasant. There are trees lining the long road, and very few cars or pedestrians. You set a good pace, listening to your music.   
  
You stand outside the bookstore for a moment to collect yourself. The sign says open in a friendly, faded red font. To the right is a big window, tinted, with “Second Hand Books” painted on it with green paint. To the left is just the brick wall of the building, but with a thin line of windows above the door level that let natural light in. Taking a deep breath, you walk in.

Octavius is sitting behind the desk, reading a book that looks almost comically small in his hands. He looks up at the jingle.   
“Oh, hello! You came back.” He smiles softly. You can feel yourself blushing.   
“Ah, yes, thank you.” You wince. Why did you thank him? Good lord, you are not ready for this.  
“Lovely day, isn’t it?” He moves on, either not noticing or ignoring your strangeness. He takes off the pair of glasses he was using to read.   
“Yes, lovely. I walked here, actually, from the college.”   
“Oh my, that is no small distance. You must have quite a bit of stamina.” The way he says it, somehow, makes you flush deeper. He sounded like he was appraising you and came out impressed.   
“Not really. Just like walking.”   
“I see.”

There’s an awkward moment of silence as you hover by the door. Octavius watches you placidly.  
“Is there anything I can help you with?” he says eventually. You leap at the opportunity to talk more.   
“Yes, um, I was wondering if you have any more books by this author.” You hand over the books from your Grandmother’s collection. “I can’t find them anywhere else. It’s actually why I came in last week, but I, err,”   
“Got lost in the stacks?”   
“Yeah….”   
He lets out a snort, that startles you until you realise he’s laughing.   
“Yes, sorry about that. Everything makes sense to me, you see, and I don’t get a lot of customers, so there’s no real need to change it. Hmmm, now let me see.” He puts his glasses back on and leans over the books. “Ah, yes, this is a very good series. Popular at the time, but somewhat forgotten nowadays. Shame. I think I may have one or two.” He stands. You had forgotten the impact of his full height. He towers above you, horns curling up above his long ears and fluffy mane of hair. You find your mouth hanging open slightly.   
  
Octavius walks slowly into the stacks and you watch him go longingly. Today he was wearing a blue shirt, the buttons of which seemed to strain with the containment of his chest. The trousers were like old swashbuckling pants, as they only went to his knees and flared out slightly. This was understandable because of his muscular calves. There was a gap between the top of his pants and his shirt where his tail poked out, swinging softly as he walked. His hooves clonked on the wood as he disappeared behind the shelves.

While you wait, you look at the books. You know what to expect this time so even though it frustrates you, the confusion on the shelves does make you forget where you are. You stick to the shelves that can see the door too. Getting lost twice would be too embarrassing.

Octavius returns after a while, holding your two books in one hand and one more in the other.  
“Ah ha, I knew I had something.” He smiles at you, waving the book proudly.   
“Brilliant, thank you!” You trot down to the desk. Disappointment sinks slowly into your stomach. If he found it, then there was no other reason for you to come back.   
“I must admit a minor problem, however.”   
“Oh?”   
“Yes, this is the sequel to another book in the series. Most of the time it doesn’t really matter what order you read them in, but I’m afraid for this one, it does.”   
“Oh?” You try to not sound too excited at the prospect. “Can you, get, the other one?” Octavius smiles down at you.   
“I was hoping you’d say that. I love a challenge. I will ask around.”   
“So, I’ll give you my number and you can just call-“   
“Oh, no, no, that’s far too personal.” He cuts you off. You deflate. It wasn’t exactly like you thought him taking your number would end up in a date, but you had been quite proud of the nonchalance with which you’d asked the question.   
“If you don’t mind, just pop into the store once or twice a week and ask me.” You perk up. This is even better. He’s asking you to come and see him.   
“You won’t mind?”   
“What? Of course not. I will be nice to have something to look forward to.” He smiles at you. You’ve completely fallen for that smile. You want to tell him how much what he just said means to you. That it’s the other way around. That he’s possible the handsomest person you’ve ever met. That despite meeting only twice, you’re starting to think about holding his hand and kissing his nose and burying your face into his hair. How his voice rumbles into your chest and makes you feel calm and excited all at the same time.   
  
“Alright, cool.” You say.  


	3. Chapter 3

So begin your weekly trips to the store. At first you are awkward, stumbling over words and forgetting what you’re saying. Octavius remains calm and polite, if a little formal.   
  
Eventually you ease into a routine. You say hello, he asks about your day, and you ask about his. You ask if the book is in yet and he says no. You go to wander the stacks, chit chatting to Octavius about little things. You’ve told him about what you’re studying, what interests you, your favourite authors. He’s told you about how he bought this store after his parents died, leaving their large collection of books. He wanted to spread their love of literature while still making a living. He’s told you how his favourite stories to read are old mythologies, especially about ones from or about his own people.   
  
“Of course, the most famous one is of Asterion.” He’d said it nonchalantly, as if it didn’t matter, but you could see him watching you from the corner of his eye. This was important to him.

“Of who?” you’d asked, pretending you hadn’t noticed and continuing to look through the stacks.

“Of the Minotaur in the labyrinth. That was his name, as named by his mother, Pasiphae. Before he grew and became monstrous, as the story goes.” He was still pretending to be uninterested in the outcome of this conversation. You couldn’t really tell what he wanted though. Perhaps your knowledge?

“Yes, I know that one. Theseus kills him, escaping because the King’s daughters gave him string.  I remember he takes both of the King’s daughters with him when he sails home, but abandons the one who helped him because he doesn’t want to marry her. Rude.”

“Yes.” Chuffs Octavius. You’d gotten used to the loud exhalation of air that was his sign of amusement. It made you smile But you noticed that he had drooped somewhat. That hadn’t been what he’d wanted.

Disappointed, you’d continued to muse out loud.   
  
“It always seemed strange that the Minotaur, Asterion, you said? That he ate people. I think the story goes he couldn’t figure out what to eat, being part…..” you paused as you realised the offensive direction this was taking. You silently cursed at your monsterphobic schooling. “Anyway, it seemed stupid that the solution was people. Almost seems like an excuse. The King thought ‘Oh no, this kid isn’t mine and is different, I better make an excuse to hide him away.’ And rather than take responsibility, he chose to hide the child away in a labyrinth. Was he monstrous because of who he was, or did he become a monster after being treated like one?”

Octavius stood up and walked toward you. He was smiling. He’d come and stood right behind you, so close you could feel his body heat. It made your pound and head go dizzy. He’d leaned right over you, knocking against your back gently, and pulled a book down.

“I think you’d enjoy this.” He’d whispered. You looked at the cover of the book as he placed it in your hands.

_Raising Monsters: How Monsterphobic Mythology Negatively Impacted Human-Monster Relations_

You are returning it today. Octavius store runs on a “return what you bought and get another book of the same price out” policy. He was like a library you sometimes bought books from. The bell jingles cheerfully as you enter.

“Hello Octavius!” you call, seeing he is not at his desk. You hear his voice call back a greeting with your name from deep within the store.

“I’m returning the book you recommended!” You dump your bag down behind his desk before jumping up the steps.

“Oh! Did you enjoy it?” his voice calls back. You can now locate his approximate location from the sound of his voice. You’ve become accustomed to the stacks by now, and don’t get lost quite as easily. You trot through the aisles, excited to talk about the book.

“Loved it! I mean, a lot of it Abhzhur had kind of talked about, but also there was a lot that had never occurred to me, or I never knew about, so I -OH” you barrel into the ladder Octavius is teetering on. He falls forward, knocking the shelf, which wobbles wildly back and forth. “Watch out!” he calls, but before you know it the stack has decided to fall in your direction.

You freeze in panic.

You’re knocked down by Octavius leaping towards you. There is a great cacophony of noise as the ladder clatters, the shelf falls and books thunder around you. On your back, you slowly open your eyes. In horror, you see that Octavius has blocked the shelf from falling on you with his body. He’s huffing heavily, grunting, as a shelf has hit him squarely on the shoulder.

“Octavius?” your voice shakes as you say his name, hands reaching up instinctively to cradle his face.

His face snaps up at you and your hands pull back defensively. His eyes are flashing red. He looks angry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bom bom booooommmmm


End file.
